


Words

by 852_Prospect_Archivist



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Challenge: Jim and Blair Christmas Song, Holiday: Christmas, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 00:42:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/792050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/852_Prospect_Archivist/pseuds/852_Prospect_Archivist





	Words

## Words

by Sheryl

* * *

Words  
by Sheryl 

* _Have yourself a merry little Christmas..._ * 

Closing my eyes, I massage my temples. How much can a man be expected to take? It's not that I have anything against Christmas, it's just that...that...if I hear one damn more Christmas song, I will not be responsible for my actions! 

"What's wrong Jim? Do you have a headache?" 

I nod. 

"Do you need any aspirin? Here, let me get you a couple." 

I hear my desk drawer being opened and shuffled through and I reach over, without opening my eyes and shut it, firmly. Sandburg, let's out a surprised yelp. "Whoa! I need these fingers Jim!" 

"Just do me a favor, okay? Just go and tell Simon to turn down that damned music." 

"Music?" 

"Yes, music. The Christmas music." I explain, patiently. "Can't you hear it? He's got it blaring in his office." 

"Jim, man, I don't hear _any_ music!" 

"Sandburg, please," I look up at him with a pained expression, "just ask Simon to turn it down." 

I close my eyes again and go back to rubbing my temples. I can tell he hasn't moved. He's still standing there, watching me. 

* _Walkin' in a winter wonderland..._ * 

"Oh God. Not this one again." 

"Jim, you need to adjust the dials, man. Okay, come on. Take a deep breath and picture the dials in your mind..." 

"Sandburg..." I make sure that my tone is as threatening as possible. 

"Come on Jim. You know the routine. Now, deep breaths...in and out..." 

"Sandburg!" I'd kill him now, but we're in the middle of the bullpen and really, I just want the fucking music to go away. "Chief," I try a softer tone of voice, "I'm beggin' ya here, please just ask Simon to turn it down." 

"Okay, okay." He holds up his hands, gesturing compliance and backs slowly towards the captain's office. From behind his desk, Joel raises his eyebrows and gives him a sympathetic smile. 

"Today, Chief!" I growl. There, that hurries him along. 

I try to listen as he enters Simon's office, but all I can hear is that damned song. I can't seem to filter through it and finally - - finally, the music stops. 

"Ahhh." I sigh in relief and smile. 

"Better?" 

I open my eyes and he's standing in front of my desk, looking amused. 

"Much." I open the folder on my desk, sliding him one of his own. "Sit down and knock yourself out, Chief." 

I know, I know. I should at least tell him thanks, but at times like this, I can't help but feel that somehow this is all his fault. Well, maybe not exactly his fault? Maybe it's that I know, deep down, that he's just dying to do some damned test to figure out this aspect of sentinel hearing as it relates to Christmas songs -- or maybe whether or not the eggnog I drank earlier has any bearing on my hearing sensitivity. I know I'm being a little irrational, but still.... 

* _Jingle bell, jingle bell, jingle bell rock..._ * 

"Shit!" I slam shut the folder and cover my face with my hands. 

"What now, Jim?" 

"Can't you hear that?" 

"Hear what?" 

"THAT! That...music! That song!" 

He cocks his head a little and listens before turning to me with a concerned expression. "Jim, I don't hear _any_ music." 

* _Bells will be ringing..._ * 

I push myself backwards, almost toppling my chair and stalk off on my mission -- in search of that music. 

"Jim, what is wrong with you? I've never seen you like this before, man. Where are you going? Jim, wait up." He's following, trying to keep up, babbling on and on. All I can hear is the song.... I stop outside of an office. "There." I say, gesturing toward the closed door. 

"There?" 

"It's coming from there. The music is coming from there." 

"Wait a minute, wait a minute! You think that I'm...You want me to ask some person that I don't even know to turn down their music because it's bothering Detective Ellison down the hall in Major Crime? Nuh - uh. I don't think so, Jim. You just need to get a handle on this." 

* _...and if you ever saw it, you would even say it glows._ * 

" Sandburg!" I grab his shoulders and push him against the wall, letting my frustration get the better of me. "Make it stop...please." I release him and pinch the bridge of my nose. "I can't take it anymore." 

"Oh man! I can't believe this. Okay, okay...fine!" 

I didn't mean to get rough with him, but he is the guide -- the expert. It's his job to fix this sentinel stuff, right? 

"Okay, man. But you owe me!" 

He gives me a look of mild disgust and knocks, before hesitantly opening the door. "Umm...Ms. Severson?" He says very politely, "I was wondering...could you umm...we need for you to turn off your radio, please? It's just that...well, we seem to be having trouble with the...the...police scanners and we think that it's probably...well, it's probably due to all of the radio interference. You know how that can be? So we're like going around to everyone and asking for everyone's cooperation." He nods and glances back at me with a grin. 

I have to admit, the kid is good! 

And then for some reason, he steps further into the office. "I've never met you before, have I? Blair Sandburg's the name..." 

Ahhh...Ms. Severson must be 'a looker'. "Come on Chief." I grab the back of his shirt and tug him out. 

"Uhh...Thanks! It was nice meeting you..." 

Thank god, the woman immediately turned the radio off. 

"Geez, I was just being polite." 

"Yeah, I'm sure you were, Romeo." I keep a hand on his shoulder and steer him back toward M.C. 

* _Chestnuts roasting on an open fire..._ * 

This can't be happening. I stop in my tracks in the middle of the corridor. Not again! 

* _Have a holly jolly Christmas..._ * 

"Oh man. Not again?" Sandburg groans. "Okay Jim, this is hopeless. We can't go to every office in the entire building and ask them to turn off the radios. Maybe it would be best if we just get you out of here. Just go on down to the truck and I'll run back and let Simon know what's going on. You can just use a sick day or whatever. Okay?" 

* _Deck the halls with boughs of holly..._ * 

"Okay." I'm not about to argue. The music is coming at me from all directions now and my head is pounding. 

* _Tis the season to be jolly; fa-la-la-la-la..._ * 

^^^^^

* * *

^^^^^

Finally, I think I've got everything under control. I've got Jim lying on the couch with a cool cloth on his forehead. The white noise generator is on. All of the lights are off, except for the Christmas tree lights and a few candles - for ambiance. The atmosphere is totally peaceful and serene. It would be perfect if we had some Christmas music playing in the background, but well...let's just say that I do not have a death wish. 

"How are ya feeling, Jim?" 

"Better." 

"Good. That's good." 

A 'thanks' would be nice, but I know, that's hoping for _way_ too much. Sometimes, I think that he thinks I take pleasure in these sensory spikes that he has. Who knows? Maybe he thinks it's my fault that he has them in the first place? He probably thinks that I should have foreseen it and miraculously prevented it before it happened. 

Realistically, I've learned to accept that Jim Ellison is more of a 'man of action'. He'll do something nice for me, as opposed to a verbal thank you. I've pretty much given up trying to get through to him on the importance of dialogue. 

"Are you hungry? I could fix you some soup or something." 

"I'm fine, Chief." He removes the cloth from over his eyes and squints, looking up at me. Then he smiles -- no, make that _leers_. Jesus, he's leering at me and he has that look in his eyes. That sort of primal, predatory gleam. His gaze is traveling slowly, lingering over every part of my body and I can feel my heart begin to race and I know that he can hear it. The man looks so fucking hot when he does that! 

"Come here." 

Oh yeah! I can do that. 

Before I'm able to make a move, he reaches up and grabs my arms, pulling me right down on top of him. Whoa! "You must be feeling better!" 

He grins and maneuvers us around, so that we're side by side and his arms are wrapped tightly around me and he growls -- holy shit, I love it when he does that -- and he leans toward me, taking my mouth with a slow and totally intense kiss. Damn! Have I mentioned that Jim Ellison is the most incredible kisser - ever? 

He pulls back, giving me this suave, sultry look that warms me all over and he shifts us again. I suddenly find myself trapped beneath one very aroused and intent sentinel and he ducks his head, attaching his mouth to that sensitive spot on my neck. I'm already turning to jello and I'm pretty sure that I wouldn't be able to form a complete sentence right now, if my life depended on it. I do manage a brief, sort of partial thought -- some distant part of my mind wonders if this aggressiveness has any correlation to the earlier strange sensory spike involving the Christmas music. Maybe I'll think about testing that theory -- later. 

Right now, all I can think of is the way that he's moving against me. The way that he's slowly, ardently grinding his pelvis into mine. He knows exactly how to drive me wild and suddenly, I have visions of wet, sticky jeans dancing in my head. 

If this is his way of thanking me, I'm definitely going to have to reconsider my opinion on the importance of words. 

Two more days until Christmas, means at least two more days of Christmas music. Oh yeah. 

* * *

End

 


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